Forever
by BetterDeadThanAlone
Summary: Carefully she turns on her side so she will face him in her sleep. So he is the first thing she will see when she wakes up tomorrow. It is the only way she feels safe. .:Unabashed fluff. You have been warned:.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. I just couldn't get it out of my head. Rumplestiltskin and Belle deserve some kind of happiness, even if it is inside a curse.

Set ahead of the current show; some six months or so.

**Forever**

It is almost midnight when she finally comes home for the night. She is exhausted, her arms and feet aching. Ashley had asked her to babysit little Alexandra while she and her soon-to-be husband went out on a well deserved date; Belle had been overwhelmed (still is) that anyone would trust their child in her care and had more that happily accepted. The infant was a darling, but who knew eighteen pounds could feel like fifty after a couple of hours of playing?

She walks, as quietly as one can when walking on throbbing feet in complete darkness, through the rather cluttered home, up the stairs and in to her – _their_ – bedroom; all the while careful not to disturb the man sleeping in the enormous, ornate bed. She can only barely make out his silhouette in the dark room, but the sight of him makes her smile anyway.

He always makes her smile, even when he is not aware of it (or perhaps, especially then).

She changes from her white and blue summer dress into a large oversized t-shirt before she slips in under the covers next to him. Carefully she turns on her side so she will face him in her sleep. So he is the first thing she will see when she wakes up tomorrow (it is the only way she feels safe).

She is not surprised when his dark eyes meets her own, without even a hint of sleepiness in them. He probably woke up the second she stepped on the lawn (if he had fallen asleep without her at all).

"I was trying not to wake you," she whispers, bringing a hand up to gently caress his cheek.

"A wasted effort, as you must know," he captures her hand in his own, brushing his lips against it. "I was waiting for you to came home." (Waiting to see _if _she would come home is what he doesn't say.)

"I always will," she replies, because she knows what he did not say out loud. Belle yawns and lays her head on his chest, her body fitting perfectly alongside his. His arms, strong and solid, wraps around her waist securely. She struggles against her own tiredness. "Gold?" That is what he tells her to call him (she has always felt it doesn't really suit him; he deserves a grander name in her opinion).

"Belle," her name on his lips is the sweetest sound she knows, even when it is uttered with a faint hue of regret and heartbreak she does not know how to erase. He calls her Belle, even though everyone else calls her Isabelle, but Isabelle has never felt completely _right._ Belle is who she is (but only with him. Only with Gold.).

"I want forever," she mumbles half asleep despite her efforts to stay awake. She knows it is important she tells him this, she just doesn't know why (or does she...?). She feels his arms tighten, almost painfully, around her for a second, before he lets out a breath she did not know he was holding and kisses her forehead tenderly.

"Forever, Belle, is a very long time," It is the last thing she hears before she succumbs to sleep.

For some reason it makes her smile.

* * *

><p>Four months after her release from the mental facility, and she still has nightmares of cold dungeons and padded cells. She dreams she is alone; utterly lonely and ultimately, unloved. Those are the times she clings desperately to Gold even before she is fully aware she is awake. Her heart racing, her mind reassuring her; he is there, he is not leaving her, she is not alone any more. He never says anything, only holds her with a vigour that rivals her own. They lay there, entwined together, (both in some way broken, both wanting to piece themselves together again) until either it's time to rise in the morning or one of them initiates a kiss, desperate to feel human contact. To not feel alone.<p>

Usually, though, it is not her, but him that wakes up from nightmares; dreams of such despair, heartbreak and loneliness, hers pale in comparison. He never talks about what he sees at night, but Belle has heard him whisper her name, and the name of a boy she knows is his lost son (she never did get the whole story, even though she's asked twice). She sees his face contorted in pain, and she is always afraid she isn't able to wake him fast enough, making his sufferings longer than they need be. When he wakes and doesn't believe she is real but a figment of his imagination, she cries, her heart breaking for him (but her love for him grows). She does not know what he has experienced in his life for him not to believe anyone could ever love him, but she is determined to prove him wrong. They made love the first time after he had woken up next to her, when her arms around him (and her tearful kisses) hadn't been enough to convince him it wasn't a particularly cruel (and wonderful) dream.

It is to this day Belle's most cherished memory. To be fair, she has quite a lot of most cherished memories now, but she (nor Gold) has never been one for technicalities.

* * *

><p>They both know no one really understands their relationship (Belle is not sure she understands it herself), and more than a few disapproves of them.<p>

She has heard the whispers.

Felt the disdain.

Seen the condescending looks.

Why would such a beautiful, young woman be with a crippled, old man when she could have anyone she chose? She has tried to explain she does not want anyone else (how could any other man possibly compare to him?) and that she has already made her choice; she has decided her fate and given her heart – forever.

He is a difficult man to love at times (she knows there is something he is not telling her, but she trusts she will find out eventually).

And she would not have it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

Thank you for reading - tell me what you think (or don't), either way I'm glad you stopped by.


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